Diagnosed With Glasses

Recently, in the course of a routine check-up at the optometrist, I was diagnosed with glasses.

I never saw myself as the kind of girl who wears glasses, but apparently I didn’t see enough.

The doctor said that I was a ‘borderline case’; I could as easily leave the office without a prescription and would probably go on to lead a relatively satisfying life.
However given the fact that I live in Germany and have only ever managed to have my eyes checked once before in my life, he thought that I ought to leave with a lil’ something to remember him by .

After my check-up, I paced the showroom floor, examining the spectacle. I asked myself what kind of frames would suit me? I wouldn’t have to wear them all the time–thank God!–but I knew I should at least try to find a pair of frames that would go with every outfit.

Titanium frames? No; that seemed to suggest that I do things like rock climbing….(not when there’s an elevator, thank you very much)
Thin-rimmed? No; I couldn’t be seen to be hiding from this……stylistic summons Goddammit!
No…..no, they would have to say:
“Yes I wear glasses now; now if you have nothing more to say on the issue I’d direct your attention to the third bar graph–” NO!!!! Already I was being taken over by their persona.

I looked about in despair. In the wall of lenses I saw reflected back vignettes from my future:
fumbling awkwardly with my glasses amidst a frenzied kiss on a darkened street corner; watching my glasses (albeit with reduced vision) fly through the air and under the wheels of an unsuspecting automobile during one of my many cycling mishaps–at which point I’d cry in a nasal voice ‘Oooooh nooooooo! My gleiiiiiiihhhhnnsssseeessss!‘ Oh God! and then I’d have to repeat it in german because noone would know what I’d said, ‘Ach, nein!! Meine Brille!’ ….then slowly I’d pick them up–the mangled trophy of a time that looked better; clearer.

On the other hand, I could just shoot for the whole sexy-secretary thing, and hope for the best.
It seemed I had a plan.

After a lengthy period of trial and preening, I had it down to 3. My God! This is hard enough for a girl who can see what she looks like–how do people with severely-reduced vision manage??
Yet despite it all, there was a favorite emerging. Cheeky little plastic frames by Dior, they said ‘Yes I wear glasses, but that’s not all I do….’ Parfait. Just what the doctor ordered…..a flash of plastic, a few rings of the cash register and they were mine.
I suppose that, now that I have glasses, I may even have fewer cycling mishaps.

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3 Comments on “Diagnosed With Glasses”

  1. Jordanager Says:

    Dior is the answer to most of life’s non-fatal diagnoses.
    Thank you for reminding us of that.
    Yours in bespeckled solidarity,
    J

  2. Mario Says:

    Welcome to the club!A tough decision, I agree, even if like you I dont have to wear them all the time.
    Ive spent the last 2 years with blurry vision because I couldnt let go of my early youth hipster look and wasnt ready to commit to a new identity yet, and just last week took the plunge into the wireframed world of real adulthood. Still nostalgic and adjusting.
    I remember going to the optometrist with my mum as a child and being fascinated by the fantasy dior glasses posters that they had.

  3. salty wisdom Says:

    You know, the Dior weren’t that much more than other frames….I almost wondered if these were maybe from his ‘Amerique du Nord le cheapo’ line or sommat…..but I know what you mean about the psychology of the move; I feel closer to being a grown-up. Sexy secretary is a big step up from Unqualified Vamp after all…


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